


Cookies

by NintendoSegaNerd



Category: Puyo Puyo (Video Games)
Genre: Amitie's dad is best dad, F/M, Sig needs a hug and a nap, he's an OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 04:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17759843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NintendoSegaNerd/pseuds/NintendoSegaNerd
Summary: Sig has been having migraines lately. Why? Amitie wants to find out. While they bake cookies, of course. Don't own Puyo Puyo, Enjoy! This is my contribution for Valentine's Day!





	Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> The headcanon that Sig lives with Akuma after his parents passed away belongs to @Kat🍰 on discord. OC Trouver belongs to me. If Sig seems out of character, it's because I'm exploring his thought process. He's a difficult character to have in first person! I'm welcome to constructive criticism as to how to make him better.

 

There are days when Sig wakes up in the morning and immediately just wants to go back to sleep. Today was one of those days. Staring at the ceiling and trying not to believe that he had to get out of his comfortable clothes and the soft… warm… bed...

 _…Wait_ , he realized. _Scratch that,_ _it’s not some of the time._ He’s tired all of the time. In fact, Sig couldn’t think of a single moment where he had actual ENERGY. To do LIFE. Except when...

He rubbed his head in irritation with his odd looking claw. There was an odd ringing sound in his ears and it was messing with his thoughts. Nothing he was thinking made sense this morning.

Time to snap out of this funk. “I have energy.” he said aloud at no one, forcing himself out of the covers and stamping his feet on the wooden floor. “When I find bugs. And when I’m with…”

OWWWWWWWWWW.

As he stood up, an immediate, sudden pain ruptured in Sig’s head. Spots danced before his eyes. He felt like his skull was going to split open. Sig fell to the floor with a loud moan and wrapped his right arm carefully around his ears. What is happening to him? Why did his brain hurt so much? He breathed heavily as his heart pounded in his chest in rhythm with the pounding ache in his head.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

As the sharp pain subsided, Sig released his arm. A dull throb ached in his forehead and Sig found he couldn’t think straight.

 _U_ _sed too much magic yesterday,_ Sig concluded. _Serves me right._

_I could just go back to sleep…_

But no. Sig shook his hair out of his eyes. He had promised Amitie and Lidelle… something today. What was it? He couldn’t remember.

 _They probably just need my tall presence or something._ Sig thought with a small hint of sarcasm. _Oh yay, I can function well enough to be sarcastic. That’s a good sign._

His mind was made up. Sig threw on a clean beetle-themed t-shirt and some sweatpants (he had no energy to be decisive about his clothes) and glanced at the only mirror in his rather sizable bedroom. His bedroom was bright with the sun creeping in through the wall-sized windows, so he could see the outside whenever he wanted to. If Sig could sleep outside every night, he would… But he’d have to settle for almost-outside.

In the mirror, Sig stared back at his own tired face. Dark circles underneath his eyes… again. Blah. No matter how much sleep he got, he couldn’t get rid of them. Not that he REALLY cared, but recently, he’d been feeling… um… what was the word…

Come on, Sigmund, what was the woooooooord…

Oh yeah. Self-conscience. For the first time in his life. He was actually concerned about how he looked. Why?

Because of a certain blond-haired, green-eyed… Sig ignored his own thoughts and grabbed a brush with his right hand, attempting to tame the messy head of blue hair, sticking up from sleeping. The two antennae he was careful to avoid, they were sensitive and he didn’t want to accidentally stab them.

He always got questions about those. He never answered them. Didn’t everyone have life-like antennae growing out of their heads? Why was he such a peculiar… specimen to people?

He hated that word. Specimen. Made him think of taxidermists.

Satisfied with the results, which wasn’t much to offer, he set the brush down and glanced at the other walls of the bedrooms, taking a moment to examine them.

He smiled. The walls were cluttered with sketches he had pinned up of the bugs that he’d watched. Recently, he found that sketching was a great way for him to properly watch the insects. They ranged from butterflies to grasshoppers to stag beetles to earthworms… and all of the scientific names that went with them. Normally Sig could name them by scientific name, but not today, his head was too fuzzy. He would just have to be content with looking at them.

In the middle of the wall was a colorful drawing unlike the others. A drawing that was kind of messy, but full of heart. Amitie’s. She had drawn him, Rufinwa, Lidelle, Glasses, and Taru all together. Sig had to admit, Amitie was not great at drawing people. But even he could tell it meant a lot to her when she gave it to him.

“Well, I was going to keep it, but I think that maybe you should have it, Sig! Just in case you need some of your friends with you when you’re by yourself.”

That’s what she said. So he took the drawing. It was a nice, colorful change of pace, different from the watercolor splashes and gray pencil sketchings on the wall.

He took an extra moment to gaze at the drawing before heading down the stairs of the dusty, old mansion he called home.

Well, it wasn’t reeeeally that dusty. It was when Sig moved in, though, and he had gotten to work tidying it all up because he can’t focus when there is too much going on. It had the feel of an old-fashioned japanese home, why, Sig was never sure. The window panes shone in soft sunlight from the garden out back, and the sunlight crept along the wooden floors and over a bamboo mat. There were many rooms in the mansion, Gramps liked to call the rooms by color, literally.

Sig didn’t care all too well, but Gramps did, so he took the time to memorize the layout and names of the rooms. Both Gramp’s and Sig’s favorite was the Blue Room, which had a distinctively large, well, blue puyo on the ceiling. The room was chock full of hexagonal cabinets stuffed with papers and scrolls, dating back to Primp Town’s early days. Sig liked to stare at the room often. There was something about it that just… had an air of mystery. Kind of like him.

Gramps said that the shelves were arranged so the most important documents were stuffed in the most unlikely places. Gramps’ sometimes would go on a tangent, wondering aloud what in Puyo could have happened here to be so important that it had to be hidden away. He liked to talk about his theories out loud. Even Sig had a hard time avoiding them, and he was an expert on avoiding.

Glasses Boy called the house’s style aesthetically pleasing when he was last here, whatever that means. He also said it was technically called the Mansion of Clandestine.

“You mean you have no idea what the history of the place you’ve been living in is?” Klug demanded when Sig first brought it up.

“...No?”

Klug seemed peeved for some reason. “I cannot believe this. This house is one of Primp’s Five big mysteries! What I could give to just tour it once- but no one was allowed to set foot inside it! At least not until you conveniently moved in. Why would Akuma let such an historic mansion be trodden upon by anyone, much less you?”

“Akuma?” Sig paused for a long moment. “Oh. You mean Gramps. I dunno… ask him.”

“Gramps?!”

Sig’s rubbed his forehead. He was starting to get another headache just from thinking about all of this history stuff. He really didn’t care, why do people seem so mad at him for not caring? He didn’t get mad at them for not caring. Except when it involves hurting the bugs. Then it gets personal.

Sig opened the door, and was greeted by a fresh spring breeze. The air was thick with the light smell of rain and grass, and Sig could tell that the bees would be out pollinating after the drizzling last night. The thought of him relaxing in a field with nothing but his thoughts and his bugs almost made him forget about his tiredness.

Sig smiled to himself. He couldn’t help but think that it would be even better if maybe Amitie could come with him…

 _Oh, there you go again. What is with you today?_ Sig asked himself, not really putting the effort into scolding his own brain.

Maybe because it was so easy to think about Amitie.

She was light incarnate, practically. He had never met anyone quite like her, not before, nor after he moved to Primp Town. She was bubbly and yet like a little spitfire sometimes: she had an attitude. He always felt wanted around her, not like a service project where people had to be nice to him just because they were told to, because he was different… Amitie embraced those differences with open arms.

Sig always had to remind himself that Amitie truly likes being around him. Sig, weird, kinda boring, always spaced-out Sigmund and she likes being around him. He never felt so privileged to be anyone’s friend in his whole life.

“Perhaps I should...” Sig mumbled. He kind of wanted to visit her. It was the weekend, she was bound to be home this early.

He found himself walking down the road to her house before he even knew it. Her house was a ways away, it was in the middle of Primp’s big market. His place was quite isolated compared to hers.

The streets were filled with people, and Sig wandered around them quickly, trying to stay intact before he reached Amitie’s place. He had all too many memories of being trampled by the shoppers here while he was just standing, enjoying the sun.

“Hey, watch it, kid.” A man with a large box shoved past him and hurried on his way. Sig watched him leave.

People. Rush rush rush. Can’t take a break, always have to be busy, he never understood why.

Whatever.

The house was just in view. It was a quaint, small home, painted with yellows and light blues. It looked so comfortably welcoming, even though Sig heard Amitie say countless times that her home wasn’t really that special. He wondered about that. From here, it radiated warmth and fellowship.

As Sig hiked up the front steps, he realized something important. Something majorly horrible.

He had forgotten Laila.

With a long innermost groan, he prepared to turn around to retrieve the ladybug, but his elbow brushed the door handle. A magical chingaling noise dinged from the door. Sig could hear someone shout from inside and feet pounding down the stairs.

 _Oh well. Sorry Laila._ Sig made himself promise to bring her next time.

“Coming!” Amitie’s voice came from the other side of the door. The door clicked and opened from the inside. Amitie poked her head out, and a huge smile grew on her freckled face when she saw who it was. “Sig!”

Sig found it so amazing that she was always excited to see _him_ , not the other way around.

She leaned on the door. “Wowza, you are early. I’m not even ready yet!”

Sig blinked. He was early? Early for what? Oh, the thing that he forgot about. Right.

“Oops?” He offered. “Sorry, Ami. Can I come in?”

Amitie’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh! Oh gosh, of course you can! Sorry!” she opened the door wide enough to let him in. Sig stepped inside and looked around. This was the first time he had seen Amitie’s house… the inside of it, at least.

It was as comforting as he had figured. The hallways were lined with pictures of Amitie and an older man, Sig assumed he was a relative. Pictures of her friends, pictures of Donguri Gaeru. Pictures that had him in it.

He was surprised by that.

And then he realized he hadn’t said anything to Amitie yet.

“Thanks.” he replied finally. Silence befell them. Not uncomfortable silence, Sig just needed a moment more to look around. Small couches in the living room were piled with blankets, facing a video box that Amitie had brought from Ringo’s world. It was Waffina’s idea, of course.

The silence was getting to Amitie, though, he could tell. She was fiddling with her arms.

“So um!” Amitie finally said, glancing down at her feet uncomfortably. “I feel kinda bad. Lidelle said she couldn’t make it at the last minute. She said she has pet-sit the school’s animals today. Is… that okay with you?”  
Sig took a moment to gaze at his friend. Her hair was as frizzy light blond as usual, and she had it back with her Red Puyo… clip? He forgot the accessory changed on command. She wore a light yellow apron over her clothes. The splash of freckles on her slightly tanned face. Sig liked her freckles. Sometimes he would count them.

“Sig?”

“...What?” Sig blinked. “Oh. That’s fine.” what was fine? Oh right, Lidelle. “...I’m glad she’s helping the school.”

Amitie sighed with relief, which confirmed that Sig was in fact staring at her. Oops. “You really had me for a second there, doofus! You looked like you staring into my soul. I was tempted to have Lidelle reconsider!”

 _That’s me. The guy who stares into people’s souls_ , he thought. _Sounds about right._

“Alright, bud, let’s get moving! To the kitchen!” Amitie pointed with a determined grin. “We’re making cookies!”

OH. Cookies. That’s the thing that he forgot.

Sig blinked. “Oh... I was wondering what we’re doing.”

Amitie let out a light laugh. Wow, did Sig like her laugh. It sounded like ringing bells and it always, always lifted his spirits. “What, did everything we talked to you about yesterday slip through your ears? Ringo gave me this amazing recipe for chocolate-chip cookies, remember? I was going to have you, me, and Lidelle give it a shot, but since she can’t make it, it’s just you and me!”

You and me. Sig couldn’t help but dwell on those words before Amitie grabbed his red scaly left claw. “We don’t have all day!”

“Coming.” Sig let her lead him into the kitchen, a small room with the basic necessities and a counter, which, Sig guessed, is where they ate. Even though it was small, the room was bright with fresh paints of yellows. Sig could only guess who was responsible for that.

Amitie nearly tripped over a stool on the way to the counter. “Whoops! That’s a chair. Sorry it’s kind of cramped in here. I was busy getting together all the ingredients when you showed up!” She proudly displayed the ingredients: flour, sugar, salt, vanilla extract, milk… “The only thing I don’t have…” Amitie continued. “Is chocolate chips! I know, really dumb, right? I was kind of hoping you or Lidelle could bring some...”

Sig scratched his head. “That sounds kinda important…. since they’re chocolate chip cookies.”

The blond girl pouted. “Agh, don’t remind me. I was completely scatter-brained when I got the ingredients yesterday. I guess it doesn’t REALLY matter, but-”

She didn’t finish her thought because someone’s voice interrupted her. “Did somebody say chocolate chips?” the voice from another room called. “Are you making cookies?!”

Amitie sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. “For the love of Puyo, YES DAD! I TOLD YOU THAT EARLIER!”

“Huh?” Sig turned and peered into another room, he couldn’t see anyone.

“No you didn’t!” the voice called back, sounding indignant.

“Yeah, I did!”

“Sunshine, I would have remembered if you did!”

Amitie’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh my gosh, DAD! I HAVE A FRIEND OVER! DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

“Sunshine?” Sig turned back to meet Amitie’s red face. Her hands flew up to her face and she let out a long groan.

 _Oh boy, she’s really cute._ Sig unceremoniously thought to himself. He was going to have to remember that name.

“...GAH! SEE, NOW YOU GOT SIG STARTING ON IT!”

The voice perked up. “Who’s Sig?! Oh wait, is he the boy you’ve been-”

“NO HE’S NOT!”

Sig was growing increasingly more and more confused as the conversation dragged on. Amitie, he could tell, wanted it to end sometime soon. Maybe he should say something?

“Um, hello?” Sig called over to the other room.

A figure emerged from the hallway. He was tall, with graying hair and a kind face that wrote, I’m joking with you 100% of the time. He wore a brown cloak and small-rimmed glasses. On closer inspection, Sig could see he was the relative from the photos. “I’m just messing with you, Ami. Kids these days. Don’t know how to take my teasing.”

Amitie rolled her eyes again with an endearing smile. “You are not funny, dad.” She patted Sig’s shoulder, which would have made him jump if his head wasn’t so fogged up with information. “This is Sigmund, my friend from school. Sig, this is my dad. He’s weird.”

“Oh, ouch.” The man winced and chuckled. “I guess I’m weird now.” he held out his left hand to Sig. “Nice to meet you, kiddo. My name is Doctor Trouver. I’m assuming Ami doesn’t talk about me much.”

Sig glanced down at his hand, and then at his own claw. He wasn’t sure what to do. Slowly, he raised his claw and carefully took the doctor’s hand in it, and followed the motion of up and down, up and down.

“Wow. That’s quite a grip you’ve got there, son.” Doctor Trouver released the handshake and rubbed his hand with a wince. “There’s certainly a lot of magic in that claw of yours. Akuma wasn’t lying.”

“Dad!” Amitie hissed. “You can’t just talk about him like he’s a patient you’re ready to cure! He’s… better than that.” She glanced up at Sig with that last word. Sig could feel a rising sensation erupt from his chest at her words, but he couldn’t point out what it was.

“Oh, of course, my apologies!” Doctor Trouver placed a hand on Amitie’s shoulder. “I’m sure you get those statements a lot anyways.”

“Eh. Yeah.” Sig shrugged. “I’m not too bothered by them...”

“Good for you.” the doctor grinned. “You know, Ami’s told me a lot about you. Bit of a bug fanatic, are we?”

Sig blinked in surprise. Amitie took the time to actually talk about him? As if he was interesting? “Well… yeah.”

“He loves bugs!” Amitie jumped in with sudden excitement. “I don’t think I’ve seen a day where he’s been without Laila or a net full of bugs that he caught. He’s like… the bugkeeper.” She waved her hands ominously. “Keeper of the bugs.”

“Pft.” Sig cracked a smile. “That’s me.”

Ami’s dad chuckled lightly. “Well, keeper of the bugs, I hope my daughter isn’t bothering you during your escapades. She can be pretty pushy.”

Amitie’s mouth fell open with astonishment. “Hey! No I’m not! I’m VERY helpful when he catches bugs! THE MOST HELPFUL.”

Sig glanced at Amitie. He felt a sudden urge to defend her even though he knew her dad was just joking. “...Amitie’s the insect magnet here, actually.”

“You’re not wrong. There are days where she’ll come home and she’ll have a giant cockroach clinging to her hat and she won’t even notice. When she does, you better believe your eardrums will be busted for the next hour.” Trouver patted his daughter’s shoulder.

“True...” Sig agreed, “I feel bad for the bugs.”

“I feel bad for anyone in the area.”

Amitie stared at the both of them, open-mouthed. She pouted.

“You two are mean!” She complained. “It’s not my FAULT!”

Her dad laughed at her reaction. “Just teasing! It’s a dad’s job, you know! Also, blame your friend. He brought it up.”

“Sorry, Ami.” Sig felt himself grinning, though. It was true, she had a really loud scream. He wasn’t that affected by it but who knows what the bugs thought. They must believe that the end was nigh.

Amitie gave him a look. “Oh yeah? Well, guess what, smartypants, at least this girl pays… semi-attention in class! This girl! Right here!” she pointed proudly at herself. “I don’t fall asleep with my eyes open like SOME PEOPLE, SIG!”

“Oh no, she got me.” Sig replied dramatically monotone. “The humiliation.”

“Exact- Hey! You’re being sarcastic.” She poked him dangerously with narrowed eyes. “You can’t pull that on me anymore! I know all of your secrets!”

“Do you?” Sig folded his arms skeptically. He had to admit, he had a hard time believing that Amitie knew all of his secrets. Even Sig didn’t know all of his own secrets.

“Yes, I do! Like…”

_You’re secretly afraid that nobody actually likes hanging around you. That you are just terrified of being alone. You know what it is to be alone, because that’s when you have to start thinking about… what you are… and you are afraid._

Sig knew Amitie didn’t say that.

But suddenly, his head started to pound and the splitting headache from this morning snapped back. He moaned out loud and covered his ears.

He could vaguely hear the voices of Amitie and Trouver in the background.

“...Sig?! Oh my gosh, is he okay?!”

“Stand back, Ami.” He suddenly felt the arms of a strong, sturdy human wrap around him.

His head felt like a drill was buzzing in through it and he began to hyperventilate.

“Easy. Breathe. Listen to me, Sigmund. Breathe. In… and out. In… and out.” the soothing voice of the doctor brought Sig back, though his heart was beating fast.

In… Out. In… Out. Sig calmed himself down and focused on the rhythm of his breathing. In… Out. In… the pounding in his head was starting dissipate. Sig opened his eyes, he wasn’t aware they were shut before. He was greeted by the face of a concerned Amitie’s dad.

“There you go. How does your head feel?” the man asked Sig. He didn’t answer, Sig lightly touched his own forehead and shuddered. He felt fuzzy like this morning, the ringing in his ears had stopped though.

“Better.” Sig mumbled hoarsely. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m a doctor, Sig. It sounds like you’ve had migraines like this before.”

Sig didn’t want to confirm that, but he nodded. In the corner, he could see Amitie staring at him with a mixture of shock and fear on her face. Was she afraid of him? Or afraid of what was happening to him? Either way, he felt terrible for allowing himself to be caught up like that in front of her.

“For how long?” the doctor asked.

“For...” Sig didn’t even know. They happened when they happened. They were just worse today. “A while.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“...No.” Sig neglected to tell him that he had told Gramps. But he was supposed to. Gramps had always taken care of him, and he trusted him, in return that Sig would not tell anyone.

The doctor gave him a good, long look. “Well, I’m glad you finally decided to tell someone, Sig. If they’ve been happening for a while, I’m the best person you can ask for treatment. Do you have any idea what could be causing them? Symptoms, maybe?”

Sig suddenly felt very tired. He didn’t want to answer the man’s questions. He just wanted to sit down. “I dunno… I’m always tired. And I think a lot… And maybe this…” he pointed at his claw. “Can I… sit down?”

Amitie was the first to answer that question. “Of course! Come on, Sig.” She took his hand in hers and gave him an encouraging glance as she walked him over to the couch. “We have a whole ton of blankets too!”

Amitie’s dad followed them inside. “This sounds like its stress-induced.”

Sig plopped down on one of the couches and Amitie grabbed a blanket for him. He was once again surprised by her over-whelming kindness. She didn’t seem afraid of him after all.

“Stress-induced?” Amitie asked, confused. “But Sig is the most laid-back person I know!”

Sig was too zoned out to object. Stress-induced, huh. He did think a lot about his arm… about how he sleeps so long but is always tired. His antennae. His left eye. His hair. He pretends that it doesn’t bother him, the questions that people bring up to him about his oddness. He tries to distract himself with bugs and nature, to distract himself from his own body. The truth is, he has about the same amount of questions about himself as everyone else does.

The only person who doesn’t ask him about anything, who accepts him for who he is, is Amitie. He feels normal, safe, around the girl who doesn’t care what he looks like.

“There are ways to put on fronts.” Trouver kneeled down to Sig’s level and patted his knee. “Listen, Sigmund. I can prescribe you some medicine that might work temporarily. But keeping your stress and anxiety inside for so long is unhealthy. You should start seeing someone.”

“What?!” Amitie blurted out, her face turning red as both of them turned to look at her. “Oh, you meant medically. Haha. I knew that. Totally knew that.”

“Sure you did.” Trouver gave Sig a wink. “I’ll have to pick up the medicine from one of the shops here, are you two okay by yourselves for a while?” The doctor stood up. “There’s juice in the ice box, Sig. I recommend drinking something.”

“I’ll get some!” Amitie volunteered, her face still red. She ran into the kitchen as Trouver stepped out the door.

Sig sat on the couch, head spinning not from earlier, but from information. He couldn’t believe how nice these people were. Trouver was a doctor, so it was to be expected for him, but still. He glanced down. The blanket that Amitie gave him had ladybug designs on it. The gesture alone was enough to clear his head and focus on the little things, like he always did.

 _I wish Laila was here,_ he thought. _So I have a bug to look at._

Sig didn’t want to just sit here being useless. He felt the sudden urge to do something, like make cookies. That was what he came to do, right?

His mind made up, he stood up and wandered back over to the kitchen. Amitie was humming and pouring juice into glasses. Sig stood behind her, trying to figure out what was on her mind. Was she still concerned for him?

“And there we go.” Amitie murmured to herself, grabbing the glasses and turning around. As she came face to face with Sig, she let out a noise. “Wagh! SIG! You’re supposed to be resting!”

“Let’s make cookies.” He replied suddenly.

“You- wait what? Are you sure?” Amitie seemed panicked. “You’re fine?”

“Yep.” Sig picked up the recipe. “I need something to do.”

Amitie’s face softened with understanding. “Okay, then. If that’s what you want. Wicked, let’s do this!”

Sig smiled at her. She didn’t need to ask anymore questions, she just knew that was what he needed right now. He glanced at her gold hair, which was glowing softly from the sunlight’s touch. Sig really wanted to play with it. She was so... so amazing and pretty and…

 _Oh boy. Why am I thinking like this? This is unhealthy. It’s not fair for Amitie,_ Sig reminded himself. _Am I… crushing on her?_

_No. Bad. Stop._

_Stay focused. Don’t get caught up._

“So we...” Sig’s voice trailed off as made himself focus on the recipe.

“Step one,” Amitie read aloud as she lightly snatched the recipe from him. “Sift flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt into the bowl. How much? Um...”

Sig took her hand pointed it at the ingredients, showing how much each ingredient needs. Amitie let out a small surprised noise at the touch. Sig immediately dropped his hand and inwardly a string of thoughts arose in his mind, why did I do that. Why. Why.

“Sorry.” Sig grabbed the flour and looked away, not seeing Amitie’s face flush.

“A-anyways! Um, have one and 2/3rds cups of flour… oh geez, that’s math. Um. Do we have a measuring cup like Ringo’s? Fiddlesticks, I should’ve thought of those… I’m so stupid-” Amitie rambled, frantically searching through her cupboards for a measuring cup.

“Where is it where is it where oh where is...”

Sig looked in the lower cabinets and pulled out a cup with numbers and dashes marked on it. “Found it.”

Amitie sighed with relief. “Thank everything. You’re a lifesaver. I can’t believe I almost forgot the measuring cups too.” she shyly took the cup from Sig. “You can probably tell, I don’t do a whole lot of cooking around here. I try. But I don’t have the touch.” she giggled and wiggled her fingers. Sig noted that she had painted her nails yellow recently.

Sig mumbled something reassuring. He wasn’t even sure what he said. Evidently Amitie didn’t either.

“What’s that, bud?”

“Um…” Sig swallowed. He never showed that much emotion on the outside. He wasn’t sure why he was having so much trouble now. “...You’d be good at it.” He offered awkwardly. He wasn’t that great at reassurance, he then realized.

“Aw, thanks! It’s nice to hear SOMEONE say that. My dad thinks I burn down the kitchen every time I try. I’m going to prove him wrong! And now I have you to help me.” she nudged him with a big grin. “We’re going to bake the heck out of these cookies! This time they’ll turn out.”

Sig allowed himself to smile back. He couldn’t help it. Amitie’s positivity was infectious. Smiling in general took a lot of effort for him, because he was so exhausted all of the time. But it was rewarding when he did it. He felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Okay so next we...”

Amitie and Sig worked through sifting the dry ingredients. Amitie had a habit of overdoing the measurements, so Sig took charge of those and Amitie whisked it all together. Even then she was a danger.

“Oops! DARN!” Amitie suddenly exclaimed. “I bumped the flour...”

Sig stared at the flour now dusting a spot on the counter. “Wow.”

“Ugh. I’m so clumsy. I’ll clean it up.” Amitie sighed and turned around to get a roll of paper towels. Sig instead grabbed a dry cloth and scooped up the access flour into his hand before dumping it into a garbage can.

Amitie returned with the roll and was surprised to find the flour mess gone. “What a what? Sig you really didn’t have to-”

“Yes I did.” Sig said simply and continued mixing the dry ingredients.

“But it was my-”

“I did.” he insisted. He did because he didn’t want to cause any more trouble for Amitie while he was here. He was going to help anyway he can so she didn’t have to.

Amitie gave him a skeptical look. “Are you… well, okay. Thanks!”

“Yep.”

The next step involved a mixer. Sig wasn’t sure what the difference between mixing and whisking was, but it said to have the mixer on… medium.

“What does that mean?” Amitie was stumped.

“Power?” Sig wondered.

Amitie snapped her fingers. “Yeah, that sounds about right. So low, medium, and high power? I’m definitely not that strong!” She laughed and flexed her arms. “See? Absolutely no muscle here! I’m a big squish. But Sig, you could use your claw!”

Sig nodded. Makes sense. The instructions said to beat the cream butter and sugars together until very light, for about 5 minutes. He grabbed a spatula and the said ingredients, measured them into a bowl, and started to stir with his claw.

It was hard to beat cream butter. It kept getting stuck. Sig knew for certain that his right arm would get very tired very quickly if he tried that way. And he was growing increasingly… tired… He stifled a yawn.

What if he just slept for a few moments? Would Amitie care?

_No. Can’t be a burden. Stay awake._

Amitie was a big help encouraging. “Nice job, Sig! It’s getting thicker! Keep going!” She read the recipe. “Okay, I gotta add eggs, one at a time. Mixing well after each addition, blah blah blah… Eggs!”

She grabbed the eggs and peered at them. “Um… okay. It’s been a while since I’ve cracked eggs. So...” she tapped the egg on the rim of the bowl, and small fracture lines appeared. “Gotta be careful not to get the shell in the bowl...”

Sig was aware of Amitie leaning in closer and closer as she concentrated. He tried not to think too much into it. But it was hard not to feel his skin prickle as she brushed her arm against his. She felt so warm compared to him. So warm and free.

_Keep stirring._

“Aaaaand… got it!” She exclaimed triumphantly as the egg yolk fell into the bowl. Sig resisted the urge to feel disappointed as she spun away to grab another egg.

“Stop feeling.” he mumbled to himself. Amitie perked up in his direction.

“You say something?”

Sig sighed. “No.”

“We got one more!” Amitie sang as she fluttered back over to Sig, holding an egg. She tapped it on the rim of the bowl. No fracture lines appeared. “Man, stubborn little guy, isn’t he?” Amitie sucked in her breath in concentration as she tapped harder on the egg.

Her hand slipped and she gasped. The egg fell to the counter’s surface, but Sig’s right arm was there to catch it. So was Amitie’s other hand. Sig was the one who caught it, but the end result was…

Amitie took away her hands and shoved them in her apron pockets with an embarrassed smile. “Nice reflexes, Sig!”

“...Yeah.” Sig handed the egg back to her, ignoring his own heart.

“How is it that you’ve saved these cookies twice now?” Amitie grinned as she went back to cracking the egg. “You must be great at cooking at home.”

“Well...” Sig’s voice trailed off. He cooked all the time at home, actually, because Gramps is unable to eat, and Sig had to. He kind of just taught himself. Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to eat before moving to Primp, when Mom was still alive…

“Well?” Amitie gazed at him curiously with bright, green eyes.

“...Oh. Yeah. I kind of just cook for myself...” Sig replied softly. “It’s nicer with...”

...What? With a friend? With someone special? With you? How was he supposed to finish that sentence?

“Coolio. I bet you make great food.” Amitie said, as she threw away the eggshell. “Imagine that, Sigmund, Homestyle Cooking Chef. You could totally go into that! I’d be your first customer.” she giggled.

Sig shook his head. “Naaaaw. My food isn’t that great.”

“Sure it is! I bet people will come for miles around just to get a taste of… what, what do you like?”

“Watermelon.”

Amitie smirked. “What else, doofus, watermelon isn’t a set 5-course meal.”

“It is for bugs.”

“That’s the thing!” Amitie raised her arms widely with excitement. “You could own a huge green-house! House as many bugs as you like!”

“Serve them as customers too.” Sig joked.

“Yeah! And then at night, you could have outdoor tables surrounded by fireflies! The ultimate mood lighting.” she faked her voice into a deep baritone at that last bit.

“...I’d need some help.”

“I could help!” Amitie was really into this idea now. “I could be a waitress! You could get that creepy giant fellow who loves soup- Gogotte? And hire him as long as he learns some cleanliness.”

“Oh boy. I’m going to pass on that.” Sig didn’t care much for Gogotte’s soup. Too many onions.

Amitie looked disappointed. “Aw, but I could totally help! I mean, sure, I’m clumsy, but I have spirit!”

“What?” Sig blinked. Oh. She thought he meant pass on her being a waitress. “Oh. I was talking about Gogotte.”

“Oh! Well, okay, whoops! So...” she kicked at the floor bashfully. “Could I be a waitress?”

Sig tried to imagine that. He had to admit, it was hard. He could see her falling every three seconds with a tray of food. He let out a small, barely audible laugh.

Amitie gave him an insulted look. “I heard that!”

“Heard what?” Sig continued with the recipe. He added two teaspoons of vanilla extract to the mix. Add dry ingredients. “I need...”

“Got it!” Amitie said, grabbing the bowl of flour and others before handing it carefully to Sig. “Here you go. Without spilling this time!” she added with a grin.

“Thanks.” Sig poured the dry ingredients in. “Wanna stir?”

She seemed surprised by the offer. “Me? Well, okay! Thanks!” she carefully folded in the batter with the dry ingredients until it was all equally formed into a thick cookie dough.

“There. See? You’re good at it...” Sig blurted out before he could stop himself. That was entirely out of character for him, complimenting someone outright like that. It felt so unnatural. But it also felt good, watching Amitie stutter back a thank you with a smile.

“Looks like… we’re missing the chips now.” Amitie’s face fell. “Darn. These cookies won’t be the same without them.”

Sig looked around the kitchen, distracted. He thought he heard a fly buzz in his ear and he wanted to find it. But whatever it was, it was gone now. The fly buzzing in his ear reminded him of the ringing in his ears of the migraine earlier though… the very thing he was distracting himself to forget.

He inwardly sighed. Seems even baking cookies wasn’t enough to shake away his thoughts.

Sig wandered over to the chairs, not really knowing why. He just needed to move his feet. Do something. Focus on breathing. Focus on walking. And focus on… finding a bag of… chocolate chips?

“Um.” Sig said, holding up a bag, that was sitting on a stool. Amitie glanced at him, and glanced at the bag, her eyes widening.

“You can’t be serious.” Amitie snatched the bag from him and read the title. “Chocolate Chunks. Oh my gosh. How?”

Sig shrugged. He was just as confused as she was. He practically jumped when she let out a loud groan.

“Aghhhhh, it was DAD! He totally left these here on purpose! He must’ve known I’d forget the most basic ingredient.” Amitie facepalmed. “Why does he have to be right all of the time??!”

Sig snorted with amusement. “Cause he’s your dad.” He slit through the top of the bag with his claw to open it. Amitie stuck her tongue out at him and dumped the chips into the cookie dough.

“ _Cause he’s your dad._ ” Amitie mimicked, with an annoying version of Sig’s monotone. “You have grown up to be such a smart-aleck.”

“Thanks. I try.” Sig replied, barely listening to her. He could smell the richness of the cookie dough already.

“What happened to the boy who spaced out so much he could barely form proper sentences?” Amitie teased. “I miss him.”

“...I dunno.” Sig shrugged again. Sig inwardly wondered about that. It wasn’t that he’d changed, he’d just… grown more confident in his speaking abilities. His friends suddenly gave him a reason to practice… socialness. Was it for the better? Sig supposed it was.

Amitie shook her head and faced the dough. “Alright, time for the fun part!” She rubbed her hands together excitedly.

The two of them worked in comfortable silence for a while, rolling up the dough into balls and placing them on parchment paper. Amitie pointed a Flame at the small wood-burning oven they owned. The oven lit up and Sig took the tray and stuck it in the oven.

“...Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes. Ooh, sounds precise. I’m not sure my Flame has heat limits.” Amitie scratched her head then shrugged. “Oh well! We’ll do it the old-fashioned way: play it by ear!”

“Okay.” Sig plopped down on the floor in front of the oven. Amitie ran into the other room and grabbed a bunch of blankets to bring back.

She handed him a few. “Here you go.”

“Thanks...” he mumbled, wrapping them around his shoulders. Now that he had a chance to sit down, in front of a warm fire, he was feeling rather sleepy…

“...Sig?”

“Hm?” He tilted his head at his friend.

Amitie was fiddling with her hair. She seemed as though she had something to say, but wasn’t sure how to put it in words. Sig gazed at her curiously. The fire reflecting off her face gave her a golden hue, as if she had an inhuman aura.

He really wanted to put his head on her shoulder. She looked so warm.

But he didn’t. He can’t act on those emotions.

“Um, well… it’s about earlier.” Amitie explained. “When you… with that… migraine?”

Oh. Yeah.

He supposed it was fair that Amitie had questions about his health and safety too. Everyone did.

“It’s just… why didn’t you tell me?”

That was not the question he was expecting. He blinked. “What?”

“You said you haven’t told anyone about the migraines.” Amitie continued. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m your friend! I could’ve helped you sooner!”

Sig stared at her. He didn’t know. He didn’t think she’d…

“It’s just...” Amitie spluttered. “It’s just… knowing my friend is hurting for who knows how long… and by himself? I can’t… I feel so stupid for not noticing. I feel like I’ve failed you as a friend, Sig.” her voice cracked with emotion.

Silence befell them. Sig didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to feel. He was shocked, but showed no expression on his face. He was shocked that she would make a situation that was entirely his problem into her own. And to believe that it was her fault.

He felt, not for the first time, deep, unwanted guilt.

He knew one thing for certain. None of this was Amitie’s fault. She didn’t have to take the blame for anything he did. How could he explain?

“Um...” Sig swallowed. “I...”

“It’s okay.” Amitie broke in. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. If its too hard… I’m sure Akuma helps you. I know he does. You don’t have to explain to me.”

Sig allowed the quiet to befall them again, although his mind was alight with thoughts. She was so understanding… this wasn’t fair to her. He had to tell her what’s happening.

“I’m… afraid.” He said quietly.

Amitie glanced up at him and said nothing.

“I don’t know… why I get those migraines. I think your dad might be right… It’s stress-induced. Because I’m scared… of what’s happening. To me.” Sig exhaled. There it was. The truth was out. He had never said that to anyone before.

He wasn’t sure how it felt. Placing his problems on Amitie… would she just blame herself more? Would she try to fix him with words? He didn’t know what to expect. But he knew he had to try to explain.

“And I know that if I show that I’m afraid… If I show my fear… I’ll make you afraid too. Amitie. You’re the first person I’ve ever known who accepts me without asking what I am.” Sig spoke clearly but slowly. Pausing in between sentences. Listening to his thoughts before he spoke.

“But now, I don’t even know what I am. I can’t lose you as a friend, Amitie. I can’t be alone…. I know when I’m alone, I start thinking. The more I acknowledge… this.” he gestured to his claw. “The more I feel… unsafe.”

“I’m...” Sig’s voiced trailed off. He had lost his courage. He wanted to say _I’m sorry for hiding this from you, this isn’t your fault._ But his now dry throat wouldn’t let him. He wanted to tell her that he had feelings he couldn’t press down, but he can’t act on them because that’ll put her in danger…

Amitie took a moment to stare at him. Sig found that it no longer mattered what she thought of him as. The secret was out, he was free from all of that now. He just wanted to…

He felt small, reassuring arms wrap around him. Sig breathed in with surprise and looked down to see Amitie’s face buried in his shoulder. She looked up at him.

“You look like you need a hug.” She murmured hoarsely. “I’m sorry for making you say that. I didn’t know. I had no idea.”

Sig paused. He couldn’t return the hug. He can’t grow close to so many people, he can’t risk hurting them with whatever was wrong with him. But at that moment, he gave in, wrapping his arm and claw around her smaller form.

They sat like that for a while, just feeling the warmth from each other and from the fireplace.

Sig found he didn’t need to think. He didn’t feel the raging fear as he used to when he was around Amitie. He felt free, and he knew it was for the best that Amitie knew that there was something wrong with him that grows even stronger still.

“Whatever is wrong...” Amitie’s muffled voice came through their clothes. “Just know that I’m here for you now. We’ll get through this together. You don’t need to hide so much from me anymore.”

It was as if she read his mind. He let out a noise of agreement.

“Are you going to blame yourself?” Sig mumbled into her hair. “For...”

“No. I’m not going to blame you either. You thought keeping all of this inside you would protect me.” Amitie whispered back. “That’s really dumb of you, Sigmund, by the way. I hope you know that. I can handle things perfectly fine.”

Sig smiled with relief. “Thanks, Sunshine.” he murmured back.

After a few minutes, Sig heard Amitie’s laugh ring in his ears. It was loud compared to the quiet tension of the room. But it was a welcome sound. “Hey, Sig, hate to break it to you, but our cookies are probably done by now.”

“...OH.” Sig released Amitie from the hug. She looked up at him with her big beautiful smile and dropped her arms. Sig flopped backwards on the floor. He was still as tired as heck. But he felt relaxed.

Amitie giggled and opened the oven. A wave of fresh cookie smell greeted the two friends. Sig practically basked in the smell of it. Unironically, his stomach growled too.

“Pffft!” Amitie started laughing. “Well, I guess that’s that! Let’s eat these things.” she pulled out the tray and set it on the counter.

“Oh, wow.” Amitie’s eyes sparkled at the perfectly golden, chocolate melting cookies. “This is the first time I’ve made cookies that aren’t BURNT.”

“Yum.” Sig stood up and hovered over the cookies, snatching one with his claw. And stuffing it promptly into his mouth. He was greeting with the flavors of melting chocolate and sweet sugar. He wasn’t really a sweets person. But even he could admit they did a great job with them.

Amitie fingered one carefully, they were still hot, and broke it in half, raising a half of the cookie like a toast. “We make a great team.”

“We sure do.”


End file.
